


The Erebor Wall of Death

by whizzy



Series: The Woodland Express [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Carnival AU, Doctor Greenwood's office, Durin Family, F/M, Fluff, Hints of Bagginshield, Humor, implied Dís/Dwalin/Nori, past Legolas/Tauriel, things that go around in circles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4726463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whizzy/pseuds/whizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How did you injure yourself then, if not bringing mortal shame on your uncle?"</p><p>Kili has to let his bottom lip out from between his teeth to answer.  "Would you believe a knife fight with the wandering clown who does the balloon animals?  He took exception to me telling him his alligator was for shit."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Direct sequel to Woodland Express, so it'll make more sense if you read that one first.
> 
> This is what happens when I start what is supposed to be a cheesy oneshot and accidentally create a mountain of back story. At some point I will probably need to write about the time Dis and Dwalin started a bar fight.

Bilbo is the only person Tauriel knows who fits the true description of a gourmand. When he's not plying the office with homemade kale chips and the most delectable tea cakes, he's jonsing for whatever the cholesterol special of the day is at the local greasy spoon.

Doctor Greenleaf's staff is small enough that they pitch in wherever needed, sharing duties that wouldn't overlap in a larger practice. They stagger lunch breaks so that there's always a nurse in the office, meaning Tauriel never gets to eat with Bard. As mere office manager, Bilbo can sneak out with one of them if the phones are quiet enough for whoever's left behind to handle alone.

They aren't particularly quiet today, but Bilbo declares an emergency, wanting to be the first to hear about The Breakup in detail. Tauriel owes him lunch anyway, and doesn't begrudge the fries he steals from her plate as he listens and inserts the appropriate tutting sounds. It feels good to talk it out with someone, to reassure herself that she really is handling it without being repressively bitter and stoic.

She doesn't mean to tell him about the rest of the evening, about Kili the carny of the oddly gracious manners and too-tight shirt and pecs. (All attributes of which Bilbo heartily approves.) He pries it out of her, though; and maybe she should have paid more attention when his noises of sympathy vanish, replaced by a distracted, calculating expression.

Bard is looking harried and vaguely put-out when they return to the office. It lasts until Bilbo slips him a takeout slice of his favorite chocolate cream pie. Still, he grumbles, "You shouldn't have," because Bilbo always seems to know how to buy himself into anyone's good graces.

(Dr Greenleaf might not have a practice if it weren't for Bilbo. He has an absolute gift for smoothing ruffled feathers, and he keeps tabs on the patient base like it's his own gigantic extended family.)

The doc himself pauses at the front office. "Oh, Tauriel, there you are." It's difficult to guess if Legolas has informed him of The Breakup. He must have known his son and RN were dating, but never once remarked on it at work. "I need you to take over room two. No anesthetic," he says, and sweeps away without further explanation, lab coat flapping in his wake.

"Sutures," Bard offers. "He was just about to start when a girl came in with a golf tee stuck in her foot."

"Ouch." Dr Greenleaf may be frustratingly old-fashioned and slow to adopt technological conveniences, but Tauriel likes how he tries to prioritize kids in distress. He's getting better about handing off procedures to her, possibly recognizing that she feels underutilized. "Doc say why no numbing on the sutures?"

"Patient preference, I think."

Tauriel shrugs. If there's an allergy involved it'll be in the chart, and she'll ask again just to be safe. "Give me five minutes."

She stows her things in the break room, washes up and slides back into her professional persona. She's always tended to the brusque side of competent, which was fine for the army, not so much a small-town practice. Knocking on the exam room door, she counts to three before entering. "Hi, my name is Tauriel, and I'll be- Oh."

Kili is perched on the exam table, his right hand loosely bandaged and cradled in his lap. His head shoots up at her name, eyes going wide, and he manages weakly, "Hello again."

Good. Tauriel would hate to think she's the only one gobsmacked by this unexpected turn of events.

"Um." He lifts his hand a little and lets it drop again. "The guy at the first aid station told me to come here. He said it would be faster than the ER. I'm not-" _Stalking you,_ he doesn't say, but it's clear all the same.

"Legolas," Tauriel says. Of course he fucking sent Kili here. It's like a perfect storm of perverse coincidence. "You just met his dad."

"I thought there was a resemblance. It's a sweet little racket they have going." A look of alarm crosses Kili's face when his brain catches up with his mouth. "Shit, I didn't mean to imply-"

"Don't worry about it. The family had a monopoly on medicine in this town for like three generations. You probably saw the photos hanging in the waiting room." There's one of Dr Greenleaf's great-grandfather going out to make his rounds with his little black bag, in the first privately owned automobile in the county.

"Ah."

Tauriel grabs Kili's chart, but it's almost empty and she can't stand here pretending to read over two paragraphs of scribbles forever. "Right. I need to... grab some supplies. I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Kili says like he really, really means it.

Tauriel shuts the door quietly when she leaves, pauses while counting to three again, then heads for the office.

"Bilbo? Do you have a minute?"

"For you? _Mais oui."_ He trades a look with Bard when Tauriel motions him down the hall, but gets up and follows gamely.

Tauriel all but drags him into Dr Greenleaf's office, which is rarely occupied and private enough. Still, she whispers, "Sutures. _It's him."_

"The guy from last night?"

She nods.

The edge of Bilbo's mouth twitches. "You mean the nice young gentleman who flirted with you shamelessly-"

(She's still not convinced it was like that.)

"-and let you ride his caterpillar-"

(Holy shit could he make that sound any filthier?)

-and ran halfway across the fair to give you a sticker that didn't even have his number written on it?"

"It wasn't that far."

"Is his shirt still two sizes too small?"

"Yes," Tauriel whines.

"Fascinating." Bilbo turns for the door. "This I must see."

"Wait! I just- I hadn't decided if I wanted to see him again, you know? I haven't had the time to decide, and now it's out of my hands." She would have wanted to choose when and where and how and in the meantime he's _met her ex,_ what the hell.

"Tauriel. Muffin. You've got the sticker taped to the back of your phone. You were going to see him again."

She shakes her head. It was a nice thought and a boost to her confidence but in reality it's a disaster waiting to happen.

"Do you want me to stall? I can have him fill out the new patient survey with the detailed sexual history."

"You wouldn't dare!" Tauriel hisses and smacks his arm.

"I wouldn't," Bilbo agrees, looking entirely too satisfied for having scandalized her. "Feeling better?"

"Maybe." _Asshole._ "I need to get a few needles from the closet."

"Which ones?"

"Three-eighths, eyeless."

"I'm on it." Bilbo bustles out the door.

Kili calls, "Come in," this time when Tauriel knocks. He doesn't appear to have moved since she left, except his heel is tapping out a nervous rhythm on the side of the exam table.

Habit takes over. Tauriel washes again, pulls on a pair of gloves, and begins organizing the rest of her supplies. It helps that she has her back to him.

"So, ah, this is your day job."

"Yup. What gave me away?"

"The scrubs, I think."

Tauriel isn't even wearing a nice pair today. They're plain green, old and starting to fray at the cuffs. She's probably going to send them to the rag pile when she gets home.

"I like the color. It, um..."

She turns around in time see him wave at her head, presumably to indicate her hair. As usual, she has it pulled back in a severe braid. It's getting too long. She needs to get it cut. "Let's see that hand."

Kili tries to pick at the bandage himself until she stops him. It's a temporary thing Dr Greenleaf applied and comes off easily. The laceration runs across the back of his hand, maybe an inch and a half long and parallel to his knuckles. She prods it gently to determine the depth and dabs at the fresh blood that wells up.

He peers down with her in fascination, bending his head close enough that she catches the scent of fake strawberries again. "Give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

"A little jagged, but you somehow managed not to nick any blood vessels. That's good. It'll be easy enough to stitch up." She has his hand in hers, holding the fingers straight. They're blunt and strong looking with dirt embedded under the nails, and they flex a little like he wants to let them curl. She can feel their warmth seeping through her gloves. Maybe that's what makes her a bit reckless. "By the way, you have my condolences."

"Condolences," he repeats, glancing up at her in confusion.

It's more difficult than it should be not to smile. "Your uncle. I assume he's died of shame."

"Right, I did say that he would-" Kili turns crimson to the tips of his ears. "I didn't injure myself hopping on or off of rides."

Naturally Bilbo would choose that moment to knock.

"Come in," Kili calls again, like he's inviting people into his house or something.

"Needles," Bilbo announces, depositing the packages on Tauriel's wheeled workstand. He's checking Kili out but he's doing it subtly for once, thank god.

"Thanks," she says, and because this is Bilbo and introductions are going to be insisted upon, "Kili, this is Bilbo, Dr Greenleaf's office manager."

Kili nods. "You must have been at lunch when I came in. Nice to meet you."

It's the correct response. Bilbo beams, "Likewise," and drifts behind Tauriel before she can chase him out of the room. He makes a show of noisily opening and closing supply drawers. "Don't mind me, it'll just be a minute then I'll be out of your way."

Tauriel hasn't been paying attention. Kili's fingers have curled the slightest bit over the edge of her hand. She doesn't bother to flatten them out, and she definitely doesn't brush the tip of the longest one with her thumb. "How did you injure yourself then, if not bringing mortal shame on your uncle?"

Kili has to let his bottom lip out from between his teeth to answer. "Would you believe a knife fight with the wandering clown who does the balloon animals? He took exception to me telling him his alligator was for shit."

Bilbo snorts.

"Try again."

"Equipment maintenance. Screwdriver slipped."

"You did this with a screwdriver," Tauriel says.

"What can I say? I'm talented."

Bilbo slams a drawer shut with enough gusto to make Kili jump. "I'm all done here," he says, which is hopefully only cryptic and worrisome to Tauriel. He's humming to himself as he leaves.

Kili's eyes flick back to Tauriel, then immediately drop when he catches her watching him. "In my defense, the screwdriver was sharper than it had any right to be. I think Dwalin has been 'improving' the tools again."

"This kind of thing happen often?"

"Often enough that I'm up on all my shots. Still, I was... not using my head. It was my own damned fault."

Tauriel places his hand flat on the exam table next to his thigh. "Leave that there until I'm ready for it."

"Yes ma'am."

"What's this about not wanting to be numbed?"

Kili shakes his head vigorously. His hair is loose today and seems to want to fall in his face at every opportunity. He rubs it back with his arm. "No painkillers either, nothing in my system if I'm to, er, work the ride tonight."

"I'd do a topical. It'd go on the surface, wear off within about an hour."

"I don't want to take the chance. My uncle's rules. He's a stickler for safety."

Right, so much of one that his nephew was hopping on moving rides and sitting on them the wrong way and basically doing everything that the safety spiel tells you not to do. "If this is some weird macho thing..."

"It isn't. Please?"

"All right. I'll try _one._ But if you so much as twitch on me I'm going to have to insist."

"If I twitch I'll let you apply the stuff, and I'll just have to live with missing the sh- work tonight."

"Do you want to lay down?"

"Not unless it's easier for you."

"I can manage either way." Tauriel adjusts the workstand to a good height for her and drags over her stool. "Place it here for me and keep it flat, please."

Kili hisses once softly when Tauriel disinfects the wound, but that's the only sound he makes. He watches with interest while she prepares the needle, then sets his jaw as she positions it with the holders.

"Closing your eyes might help."

"I'd rather see it coming."

Tauriel inserts the needle, turning her wrist to curl the tip back out again and pull through a length of thread. It's not a skill she's called on to practice often, but the motions remain familiar and her hands steady. Kili, true to his word, does not so much as flinch.

"Okay?" she asks, tying off the knot.

"Not bad. Feels strange, mostly."

Tauriel proceeds along the laceration, leaving a row of precise black stitches. She's glad Kili doesn't distract her with talk. It's bad enough when her focus begins to wander. No, that's not it. Expand? She's tying the sixth knot when she really notices for the first time the dusting of dark hair on Kili's forearm; lining up a fresh needle, she realizes they've fallen to breathing in unison.

It takes eight stitches in all. She snips the hanging thread on the last and Kili lets out a deep sigh. "You did good," she tells him, quelling the urge to pat his arm, or knee, or thigh...

"I didn't do anything. You did all the work." He turns his hand back and forth, studying. "They're so exact."

"No touching," she warns, tidying up and pulling off her gloves. "Dr Greenleaf will want to check them and go over your post-visit instructions before you leave. Typically, you're looking at about a week until they can come out."

The fair will just be gearing up for its big finale in a week.

"I'll be in town at least until the twenty-sixth."

And there it is: He's leaving before the end of the month.

"Tauriel..."

She freezes, trying to ignore the hopeful note in his voice. The light brogue is still there, has been the entire time. She can safely conclude it isn't part of his act. In truth, now that she's seen him when he's not running his mouth on false bravado, she can easily distinguish the act from the person.

This is awful. It's more awful than when she was just thinking about fucking him because she's afraid she's begun to like him. What is she going to do when he asks and she doesn't have an answer?

Nothing. She isn't going to do anything. Try as he might to muster his courage, it slips away from him in the end. "Thanks. For patching me up."

"You're welcome."

"I'll see you around, I guess. When the stitches come out if nothing else."

Tauriel nods, gifting Kili with a tiny smile as she lingers by the door. "I'll go tell the doc you're ready for him."

Bilbo is thoughtful enough to let Tauriel speak to Dr Greenleaf before accosting her and dragging her up to the office. "Well?" he demands.

"Eight stitches, nice and easy."

"Don't be obtuse."

Even Bard has his ear cocked, listening in though he's pretending he isn't.

What the hell. He'll know everything Bilbo does within the hour anyway. "Oh, everything's great. I panicked, he chickened out -- you know, the usual."

"Did you at least get his number?"

Bard gives in, spinning his chair around. "She didn't get his number."

Bilbo says, "Not a problem. I'll pull it from his records."

"Don't. I don't know anything about him, and he's not going to hang around long enough for that to change. It's a terrible idea."

"He rides a motorcycle," Bard says.  "That's something."

"What? We did some snooping, it's the only vehicle in the lot unaccounted for."

Tauriel tells Bilbo, "You're not helping," just as Kili approaches the desk to check out. He definitely overheard, glancing between them warily. Dr Greenleaf has re-bandaged his hand and sent him along with a little bag that doubtless holds supplies to change the dressing a couple times.

Bard turns back around and suddenly becomes very engrossed in a stack of papers.

Tauriel has never seen Bilbo process someone more slowly through check-out. It's excruciating to watch the exchange of _pleases_ and _thank yous_ and _could I have your signature, right there on the dotted line would be fantastic._ "Kili Durinson," Bilbo reads off the receipt that he actually compares to Kili's ID. "Yup, that's you." They both laugh, Bilbo like he wants to knock some heads together and Kili like he's spooked but can't pinpoint why.

If Tauriel doesn't take pity on him, no one will. Inspiration striking, she snags a bucket from beneath the counter and comes around the partition. "Hold up."

Kili finishes returning multiple cards and the receipt to his wallet before turning to Tauriel. He can't see what she has, only that she's hiding something behind her back.

"It just so happens that we give out special prizes to our bravest, most well-behaved patients." She presents him with the bucket of little plastic toys, the cheap kind that comes in a bulk assortment. "Take your pick. You earned it."

The grin that splits Kili's face is blinding. He gravely considers his options before selecting a pink glitter jelly bracelet with a tiny star charm. "Um, could you help me...?"

"Sure." Tauriel pinches the bucket between her knees and uses both hands to wiggle the bracelet onto Kili's left wrist. It fits without cutting off the circulation, barely.

"So. Fair tomorrow? Say six? I know you've already been, but I could take you behind the scenes some. Do like the seedy underbelly tour."

Friday is their short day. Tauriel could make it by six. "I could make it by six."

That slapping sound she hears had better not be Bilbo giving Bard a high five.

"Okay. Yeah. See you then."

"East gate," Tauriel says.

Kili backs for the door, feeling behind him with his good hand to avoid knocking into it. When he finally gets it open and spins around to leave, there's a distinct spring to his step. A minute after he disappears from view, an engine thunders to life in the parking lot.

"Definitely his bike," Bard says.

Only Bilbo is shameless enough scuttle over and peer out the window. "Hate to see him leave but love to watch him go."

Tauriel is so very grateful there are no other patients in the waiting room. "Get your own carny."

"Yes, do let me know if he has a hot older brother."


	2. Chapter 2

Fingers snap in Tauriel's face.

"She's doing it again." That's Bard, from across the room, but it's Bilbo at her side who did the snapping.

She realizes she has no concept of how long she's been standing there with the same chart in her hand. Long enough to get busted, at any rate.

The problem with setting up an actual date a whole twenty eight hours in advance is that it's allowed Tauriel time to catalog in _grueling_ detail the reasons why seeing Kili again amounts to an exercise in masochism. She still knows next to nothing about him, and he knows just as little about her. What would he think if he knew she just broke up with someone? (She hasn't even changed her sheets since the last time Legolas stayed over, for fuck's sake. Sure, she could have, but doing it would have been like admitting she's prepared for something to happen, and she isn't.) Even if it turns out that Kili is okay with being her weird rebound fling, content to hang out without screwing around, what happens a week from now? The more she gets to know him the more she might like him, and the harder she'll be making it on herself when he packs up and leaves town and she never sees him again.

"Remind me why I thought this was a good idea," she mumbles, tossing the chart on the pile. They're almost done pulling the batch for the next work day.

Of course Bilbo knows exactly what she's talking about. "You may have been influenced by an unfairly tight shirt." He pats her arm. "Don't worry, it happens to the best of us."

Bard says, "Some more often than others," pointing and mouthing Bilbo's name silently to Tauriel, just in case it wasn't super obvious who he was referring to.

"It's not a good idea. It's a very not-good idea."

"It's a fine idea," Bilbo says. "You just need a little backup -- which is why I've decided to commit my evening to functioning as your moral support and contingency plan."

"Hold on, did you just _invite yourself along on her date?"_

Bard has worked here a little longer than Tauriel, but she still tends to think of him as the "normal" one, a kind of litmus test against which to gauge Dr Greenleaf's quirks and Bilbo's genteel audacity. She's not adept at drawing the line herself, having become inured to some pretty odd behavior in her time (thank you, army). If Bard thinks Bilbo is overstepping...

"I wanted to go to the fair anyway." Bilbo tells Tauriel, "It's a big place. You won't even know I'm there unless things go tits up and you need to use me as an excuse to bail."

"Okay, yeah, that makes sense," Bard says. "I've done it for Sigrid.

(Then again, normal is relative. Bard's the one raising three teenagers by himself, the four of them crammed into a tiny houseboat down on the lake.)

Bilbo says, "I'll pick you up at five thirty," and that's that.

~~~~~

"What's this? You're not dressed!"

"I'm dressed."

Bilbo waves his hands up and down, indicating her deplorable state. "Not for a hot date."

"You're early," Tauriel counters weakly.

"Sweet pea, do you really want to stand up the nice young man who let you stick a needle in him repeatedly without complaint and roared out of our parking lot with a finely tuned 1200cc engine throbbing between his legs?"

She's going to hate herself for saying it but, "You can't possibly know how large his engine was."

"Call it an educated guess." Bilbo ducks under her arm, inviting himself inside.

Of course he would know that she's still thinking of backing out. It's why he's really here, to administer one of those helpful nudges -- or in this case more of a kick. "Fine, I'll go, but I'm wearing jeans and not shaving my legs. And I won't be seen with you in public like that."

Bilbo looks down at himself, wiggling his toes in his dime store flip flops. "Like what?" The pockets of his cargo pants have pockets, and she isn't sure what statement he's trying to make with the striped suspenders. The aviators perched on his head look like they're a relic from his Top Gun phase. (She assumes he had one.) There's no helping the hair, a honey brown mop he's worn the same way since he was five. (No assumptions there, she's seen the pics.) He moans when he thinks he finds gray hairs but they blend in so well it's nearly impossible to notice.

"You're changing that shirt," she informs him.

"What's wrong with my shirt?" He reeks of false innocence. "It's comfortable and the nice sales rep gave it to me for free."

"You are literally a walking advertisement for genital wart cream."

"Only like two people out of a hundred recognize the drug name, and let me tell you, when they do? The look on their faces is priceless."

"You're doing this to distract me."

"So what if I am?" Bilbi grins and snaps his suspenders at her. "It's working."

She makes sure to flip him off on her way to the bedroom to change and find him a spare tee shirt.

Bilbo is allowed to drive because the driveway of her grandmother's old house -- after all these months back in Dale, it's still strange to think of it as hers -- is only wide enough for one car and he's blocked Tauriel in. It was probably another precaution on his part to make sure she gets to the fair on time and in one piece.

Oddly enough, as soon as they hit the parking lot she begins to feel better, more relaxed or confident, something. Maybe it's because her destination is in sight and it's a mixture of familiar and ordinary. Nothing foreboding at all about a date at the fair. She'll probably have fun, and definitely would have felt like an ass if she'd stood Kili up.

"Thanks," she tells Bilbo, levering herself out of his car, an old MG with a ground clearance of about three inches. He's had it since he was seventeen. "I owe you one."

"Buy me an elephant ear and we'll call it even."

They don't make it to the end of the first row of cars before they're spotted by one of Dr Greenleaf's patients. Bilbo pauses to chat, waving Tauriel on without him. She supposes she'll call him when she's ready to leave, and she doesn't think he'll have a problem entertaining himself in the meantime. He probably knows half the people here.

She reaches the gate a good fifteen minutes early. Kili's not there yet, so she stands in line to buy a ticket, only to spot him leaving another line just as she'd finished her purchase. "Kili!" she calls automatically.

He spins on a heel, and if he wobbles at all it seems to be for exaggeration or comic effect, not because he was in any danger of losing his balance. Spotting her in turn, he weaves through the sparse crowd. "Hey. I just... bought you a ticket."

"That's sweet, but you didn't have to-"

"I did invite you." He rubs at the back of his neck. "Normally we'd have guest passes but my cousin -- well, my mum's cousin if you want to be technical -- came down to visit with his lot and used up all we had and then some. Sorry, I should have mentioned something yesterday. I didn't even think to get your number in case something came up. I guess I could have called your office, but you had no way get in touch with me. Not that I was worried or anything when I didn't see you at first. I came early just so I could..." He waves the ticket a her.

They could give the spare to Bilbo, but Tauriel doesn't know where he is or how long he'll be delayed. Kili doesn't need to know she practically had to be dragged out of the house, either.

"Anyway, not like it'll go to waste. Be right back." He slips outside, handing off the ticket to the nearest family. Flashing a card at the gate gets him readmitted, and he's bounding back over to Tauriel when it happens: this expression of _wonder_ overtakes his face. He halts in front of her, grinning. "You look nice today. Not that you haven't every time I've seen you, but today it's for me."

She'd like to tell him that he's being presumptuous, that she made no special effort on his behalf, but it's not completely true. Yes, she's in old jeans, but she paired them with a moss green shirt that's cut just low enough to expose the freckles across her collarbones. She thought the flat, strappy sandals might minimize the difference in their heights; and they do, especially in combination with the boots he's wearing. Even standing this close, she and Kili are very nearly eye to eye.

Damn it, his stupid grin is infectious.

"Thanks. You look nice, too," she says, because he does. He's clearly fussed with his hair, and she likes that he hasn't shaved his perpetual stubble.

He shoves his hands in his pockets -- or tries to, thwarted by the bandage on his right. His left wrist is sporting the pink jelly bracelet, and she suspects he's never taken it off. "Thanks. You, ah, ready to head in?"

"Lead on."

"Is there anything in particular you want to do or see? I want to show you something at eight-" Kili's eyes leave her, and he gives himself away by tapping out a nervous pattern on his right thigh. "-but otherwise the evening's wide open."

It's probably not wise to say, "I'm fine with whatever you want to do." Tauriel could end up wedged in a closet somewhere with a cheap bottle of vodka and a sloppy-drunk carny intent on showing her just how large his "engine" is. Okay, that's an exaggeration. She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and she wouldn't let things deteriorate that far, but still.

She could also end up at the petting zoo, holding a strange man's hedgehog while Kili crouches next to a little girl, showing her the proper way to pet an enormous brown rabbit.

It happens like this:

Kili guides them down the fair's main drag, a mix of demonstration tents and food and souvenir vendors. Unsurprisingly, he has tidbits of gossip on nearly everyone: which vendors have the worst health inspection scores; which company demoing inflatable hot tubs holds illicit after hours parties; which airbrush artist can be trusted not to give up your name if you bribe them to paint a monstrous, realistic dick across the side of someone's camper van. (Or so he's heard.)

What is surprising is the number of people who recognize Kili. Most acknowledge him with a wave or a not particularly subtle thumbs up. He trades greetings in passing with a few, but isn't waylaid until an arm shoots out of a tent, snatching him by the collar and dragging him inside.

Tauriel follows to find Kili being patted about the shoulders and chest by a spindly man who's all beard and odd, droopy hat. "Kili, Kili, good," the man mutters. "You gotta help me. Gandalf's like an hour late for my break."

"Tauriel, Radagast," Kili gestures, and mouths, _He's harmless._ "Radagast, this is my friend Tauriel."

"Oh? Hello," Radagast says, as if he's just noticing Tauriel despite that he practically had to hip check her to reach Kili. He goes for his hat, and for a moment she's afraid he's going to doff it at her. She never imagines he might reach beneath it and pull out something _live_ and _squirming_ that he then deposits in her hands.

"This is a hedgehog," she announces, showing Kili with a what-the-fuck-do-I-do-with-it motion.

Radagast ignores her, having gone right back to pleading his cause. "Will you watch the farm for me? Five minutes, man. That's all I need. I gotta go _drain the lizard."_ He leans closer to Kili for that last bit, enunciating carefully like he's using some code Tauriel won't understand.

Kili shoves him without any real force. "Yes, fine, go!"

"Thanks bro, I owe you." Radagast bolts, moving rather stiffly. By the way his shoulders are hunched, he's probably got his hand clenched over his groin.

Tauriel shows Kili the hedgehog again, because what the hell.

"That's Sebastian. He's nice, just hold him gently." Kili tickles the little prickly ball up under its chin.

"I've just never had a strange man give me a hedgehog before." Tauriel looks around at the wire cages and large central pen strewn with fresh sawdust and realizes that her date's just been left in charge of a functioning petting zoo for the foreseeable future.

"Maybe harmless isn't the right word. Radagast means well, but should he attempt to hand you something inanimate, you're probably better off not accepting."

"Noted," Tauriel says. She's never even seen a hedgehog up close. This one seems content to snuffle against her palm. "So how-"

"Oh hey, not the ears." Kili vaults into the pen, scattering baby goats and lambs and ducks and one really weirdly poofy chicken (the miniature pig cracks an eye at him and goes back to dozing). "Try petting Bun-Bun this way," he demonstrates. "Start at the nose, end at the tail. Don't pull his ears, okay? He doesn't like like it and it isn't nice." The rabbit is the size of a hefty cat and honestly seemed resigned more than anything to being rubbed the wrong way; but the little girl listens and copies Kili while giggling at his pink bracelet.

The cynical side of Tauriel wonders if this isn't some bizarre set-up, with the hedgehog and the baby critters and look how well Kili's managing that kid. But watching him chatter away on his knees in the sawdust, she gets the impression that it's not staged, that he would behave no differently if she weren't here to act as bemused audience. She's seen him when he's self-conscious, and he's too relaxed to be overly concerned with her opinion of him in this moment.

Maybe he just really likes animals.

Scratch that. No maybe about it.

Radagast returns to reclaim his hedgehog, and while they stand around gossiping for a minute, Kili scratches one of the goats until it rolls its eyes and stretches out its neck, wearing the most deranged expression of pleasure Tauriel has ever seen. (And that's saying a lot, because army.) With Kili in the lead, they progress from petting zoo to piglet races to catch the end of the sheep dog demonstration. After, Tauriel meets the trainer, an absolute mountain of a man named Beorn, while Kili is mobbed by four overstimulated border collies. Then it's on to a whirlwind tour of the livestock barns.

The evening is not shaping up to be anything like Tauriel imagined. She never would have done any of this stuff on her own -- hell, she never got to do half of it as a kid -- but it's too easy to be swept up in Kili's enthusiasm. If she's being honest, she's deriving a good deal of her enjoyment from listening to the timbre of his voice and watching his hands help weave his stories.

He's minding his own business, standing in an aisle in the last barn when a draft horse pokes its massive nose out of its stall, no doubt drawn by the scent of fake strawberries. It lips at Kili's hair while he tries to push it away, showing a flagrant lack of regard for his fingers. He's grinning as he grumbles, "Quit it, you. I'm not edible."

 _You are,_ Tauriel thinks, perilously close to reenacting that particular fantasy in which she jumps up and wraps her legs around his waist just to see how easily he could support her weight. Horse goo and all.

"You've got some slobber..." she points, biting her lip.

He rubs at his hair, smearing the goo more than anything. "I need to wash up anyway. My hands are filthy."

He's not the only one who's pet every furry creature under the sun. "So this is the seedy underbelly tour of the fair," Tauriel teases.

Kili's expression shifts, grin not so much fading as supplanted by the too-bright version that belongs to his act. "Well, I thought I'd maybe ease you into the worst of it. I mean, if you want to go straight for tacky I'll buy you a flat, warm beer and we can go perform lewd acts on the ferris wheel. I know the operator. For the right bribe he'll fake an equipment malfunction, get us stuck for a few minutes with our car right at the top where no one can see in."

"How romantic. I thought you'd never ask," Tauriel deadpans. "Should I leave my panties behind for the next lucky bastard or would you want to take them as a souvenir?"

"I-" Good, she's startled him enough to wipe that grin right off his face. "Sorry, I got caught up in showing you the parts of the fair I like. I should have-"

"Kili." She reaches for his hand, the bandaged one, to stress how important it is that he believe her. "If I wasn't enjoying myself I'd let you know. I'm not opposed to some good, wholesome fun, even if the hedgehog was... unexpected."

"That's Radagast for you." Kili's staring down at their linked hands like it's a trap and he's waiting for the ground to drop out from under him.

Teasing him further is maybe not advisable, but she figures he deserves it for putting the idea in her head. She wouldn't, of course, but that doesn't prevent her from imagining dry humping him in a swaying car, high above the lights and tumult of the midway. "Dare I ask how you know about the ferris wheel?"

Kili groans. "My brother. I wouldn't, but he has. He's the one who commissioned the giant airbrush schlong, the fucker, and straight up told me he did it because he knew everyone was going to blame me anyway."

"Sounds charming."

"Oh, he is. Not bad looking either, if you're into the whole gilded perfection thing." He tries to make it a joke, but it's steeped in honesty, fondness, and a curious resignation.

Tauriel's had gilded perfection. It was overrated. "Older or younger?" She jogs Kili's hand when she senses him hesitate. "My interest is strictly on behalf of a friend. He'd have to be like thirty minimum for it not to be weird." Bilbo did ask. He won't mind being outed.

"He's twenty-seven."

The same age as Tauriel, but she doesn't want to admit that just now. "Whew, he dodged that bullet."

"You can meet him, later. I'd like you to meet him. It's just the two of us, and-" Kili drags Tauriel's wrist up to his nose, gaping at the simple watch she still habitually wears in this day and age of smartphones. "Shit, it's seven thirty?"

It's _really_ too soon to be meeting family -- not to mention, Tauriel hates explaining the orphan thing. It wasn't so awful as people like to imagine; she had her grandmother until she was almost seventeen.

Kili jostles her arm, tugging back her attention. "We have to hurry."

"I thought the thing you wanted to show me was at eight."

"It _starts_ at eight. We need to be there early."

Kili is more than excited for whatever it is. He's infused with a nervous energy that serves to heighten Tauriel's curiosity. They leave the barn area, taking a shortcut through the central arena and skirting the exhibit halls to reach the second entrance to the midway arc. Tauriel approached from the opposite direction two nights ago and never made it this far, didn't make it past kiddie land and the Woodland Express.

It's not difficult to guess what Kili wants to show her -- or rather, where it is. He pulls her unerringly toward a tall blue tent, but she still has no idea what it is, apart from a sideshow attraction of some kind.

Closer inspection provides no enlightenment. The tent covers an elaborate, overgrown wooden deck, two stories tall, with steps to the top and a wide inner column. The whole thing is little larger in diameter than a merry-go-round.

Pennants snap above the tent in a strong breeze, the same deep blue color and vaguely heraldic-looking, with a stylized blackbird logo. When they get close enough, Tauriel reads the imposing letters painted on the side of the deck: The Erebor Wall of Death.

"Alright, I give up. What am I looking at?"

She's overheard by a gentleman with a long white beard, prowling in front of the tent to drum up business. "Are you not familiar with the show?" he asks her, cocking his head.

"This'll be my first time," Tauriel says.

"Oh ho! You're in for a treat, lass." The gentleman _twinkles_ at her, but she doesn't get out a response because Kili is ignoring him and hustling her for the stairs.

They're met at the top by a guy with coppery red hair and outlandish eyebrows and twice as many freckles as Tauriel. He's directing traffic, arranging the makings of an audience on the platform around a central pit, standing room only. Kili tells him, "I've got a first-timer here. Get her a good spot, will you?"

They must know each other. The guy says, "It's a bloody circle. They're all good spots." He and Kili trade a look, and suddenly he's nothing but solicitous. "Right this way, if you please."

Kili begins explaining, "Troupes like this have been riding the wall for a century. They're a dying breed, but they used to be quite popular. Competition was so fierce back in the heyday that some of them added animals, lions and stuff. Put the bugger in a sidecar, drive it up the wall, spin it around a few times, crowd goes wild."

She's still not entirely grasping the concept, but it might explain the flags. "Do these guys perform with crows or something?"

"I think it's supposed to be a raven, and you shouldn't give them ideas."

The redhead with the eyebrows is nearly hurting himself trying not to laugh. He ushers Tauriel to a spot right up against the wall itself, but it's Kili he asks, "This do?"

"Perfect."

Tauriel peers down into the pit for the first time. It's maybe twice as wide as it is deep and made of vertical slats of wood, round and smooth like the interior of an enormous barrel. She can reach out and touch the tension cable circling the lip, which is either helping to hold the thing together or meant as a safety barrier. Perhaps both.

"I'm up," Kili announces. "Wait here for me, yeah?"

"Wait for you? What-"

Kili's gone, though, and Eyebrows slips into the space he vacated, smirking at Tauriel like her incomprehension is the best fucking joke he's heard all week.

She looks to the floor of the pit, where three motorcycles are awaiting their stunt riders. "Oh, shit," she mutters.

Eyebrows cackles, "Kili didn't warn you?"

Not only did he not warn her, he took active measures not to prematurely reveal what his actual job on the midway entails. He's probably _so pleased_ with himself. Like, insufferably smug. "I had no idea."

"Well then. Enjoy the show."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for stopping here, but this is a good resting point as there's a lot left to tell. At least we made it to Kili's big reveal, which hopefully wasn't spoiled too badly by the title.
> 
> I do recommend catching a wall of death show if you ever have the chance.


	3. Chapter 3

The gentleman with the long white beard pulls in a decent crowd, packing the observation platform by the time eight o'clock rolls around. Eyebrows shuffles people around, squeezing in stragglers with a nearly sadistic efficiency. He leaves Tauriel where she is, though, and she wonders if it's so Kili can spot her easily during the show.

Please let him not do anything embarrassing to single her out for attention.

Roping off the stairs, Eyebrows slides in next to Tauriel, but he isn't watching the pit like everyone else. He's scanning the audience, likely marking out potential rule breakers or troublemakers. The kid on Tauriel's right is yammering on about how awesome it would be if the riders crashed, and she entertains a brief fantasy of elbowing the brat in the windpipe.

"We rarely fall," Eyebrows tells Tauriel. "Every couple years maybe someone comes off the wall, lands under the bike and breaks a few bones. Although..." He rubs his ear. "It has been a while. We're probably due one of those."

The crash enthusiast next to Tauriel goes quiet, straining to overhear more gory details.

"You're reassuring."

"No, I'm Nori."

Great, she's got a regular wise ass on her hands. "I'm-"

"Tauriel, I know. Trust me, we all know."

That isn't ominous or anything. "So, do you do this too?" What had Kili called it? "Ride the wall?"

"Oh, sure. We do a bit of rotating, share the uncool jobs, keep everyone in practice, but the lineup for the big finale at the end of the day is usually the same."

The audience settles down as a man steps into the bottom of the pit. He's got a microphone, a droopy mustache, and honest-to-god Willie Nelson pigtails complete with bandana. Calling himself Bofur, he gives the safety rundown: no throwing or dropping things into the motordrome, no flash photography, no sticking anything inside the tension cable. Tauriel's a little worried about the red line circling the rim of the pit just inside the cable, like a warning track. Surely the riders aren't going to come so close to the edge.

Bofur is an engaging presenter, all bright energy with a touch of the rogue -- likely the basis for Kili's huckster routine. He glosses over the physics that'll stick five hundred pounds of bike and rider to the wall and introduces the bikes themselves. It turns out their clunky, vintage charm isn't just tradition. It's also integral to the performance.

"Which one is Kili's?" Tauriel asks.

"The blue one there."

"And it's seriously eighty years old."

"You can't wear out an Indian Scout," Nori says. "Best damned wall bike ever made. Thorin rides one used to belong to his old man's old man."

She wants to ask who that is, but at that moment the riders themselves enter the motordrome. Kili and another guy close and secure the two-part door behind them. The top blends seamlessly with the wall, while the base forms part of the narrow transition ramp that circles the outer edge the floor. Kili's partner is near his height and appreciably similar in build (and fondness for tight shirts), sunny blond to Kili's darker coloring. Must be the brother. The third rider is a woman, her long hair in a braid as thick as a horse's tail. She's gone straight for a leather vest that displays her bare, brawny arms to good effect.

They're too far away to hear what it is, but Bro says something that has Kili hopping after him a couple steps, trying to playfully kick him. It's probably not a coincidence that Kili's eyes find Tauriel a second later, leading the blond's right to her as well.

She gives a tiny wave. "Is that-"

"Fili," Nori supplies.

Kili and Fili. "You're joking."

"I would never joke about the names Dis chose for her boys." He motions to the woman in the vest. "She'd kick my arse sideways into next week."

"No shit," Tauriel says, because Kili's mother looks like she could not only kick your ass sideways into next week, she'd make you enjoy the experience. What kind of genes does this family have going for it?

Kili straddles his motorcycle, rolling it off its stationary stand. Tauriel can see the moment he clicks into his performance mindset, focused and confident. Fili helps him push start the bike while Bofur explains that the machines have been stripped of fenders and other unnecessary parts to reduce weight. After a couple rounds on the floor, Kili clatters up the transition ramp, opens the throttle, and roars up the wall.

Hopping on a moving kiddie ride doesn't seem even mildly risky anymore. "No helmets."

"No helmets," Nori agrees.

Fili is up the wall as soon as Kili is leveled out and stable. It takes him a few circuits to catch up and match Kili's speed. He slots his bike in close enough that they can reach out and link arms; and they must have some means of locking throttles open because they release their handlebars entirely.

The weight of the bikes hurtling around the ring makes the whole structure shudder, vibrations Tauriel can feel through her feet. The confined space amplifies the sputter of the engines. It's exhaust fumes and skill and old-fashioned spectacle. She's entranced, whistling and clapping her appreciation with the rest of the audience.

Then Kili and Fili _stand up,_ holding their bikes steady with just their knees -- as if she needs such a casual and patently unfair display of strength to fuel her imagination. Kili is concentrating too hard to seek her out now, but he's wearing a fierce expression of pleasure, hair whipping in his face. His brother is smiling serenely, and Tauriel thinks his eyes are closed.

After a few more circuits they drift apart, Kili dropping back (or Fili shooting ahead) to swap lanes. She was so busy watching them that she failed to notice Dis start up the wall. It looks too short to support three riders at once, especially when they begin to bob and weave, crossing paths in a pattern not unlike a braid. The risk of collision seems extremely high, the speeding bikes passing within scant feet of each other; a slip by one would mean disaster for all.

She wonders how many years it takes not only to build such coordination but to make it appear effortless.

The brothers eventually peel off the wall one at a time, leaving Dis up alone to work through a more acrobatic routine. It's almost difficult to watch her recline with her feet up on her handlebars, but then she twists sideways in her seat, arms spread and legs dangling over nothing but empty air. She's doing fifty miles an hour fifteen feet above the ground, centrifugal force the only thing holding her on her bike, and she's _laughing._

Kili must've had one hell of an interesting childhood.

Tauriel and the rest are still applauding the end of Dis' routine when Bofur steps forward with his microphone again, calling for a volunteer from the audience to assist with the next stunt.

"That'll be you," Nori says.

"What? No-"

"Yup." Nori catches Tauriel's wrist, waving her arm in the air. Bofur spots them and points and it's official.

The delightful kid next to Tauriel had been jumping up and down in desperation to be chosen. He whines about how unfair it is and the whole thing is clearly rigged and she's only too happy to glare down at him. _Yeah, that's right, bite me._

"Fine," she tells Nori. "What do I have to do?"

"You're going to play brass carousel ring." Nori fishes the item out of his pocket while Bofur explains the rules: The riders will take turns making one pass on the wall with the first to catch the ring the winner. "Here. Make a fist, pinch it between your thumb and your knuckle. Don't put your finger through it unless you want a busted finger."

The ring is smooth and warm from Nori's pocket, maybe as large around as a ping pong ball. Tauriel adjusts it in her grip as instructed.

"Good. Hold it as far out over the cable as you can."

"I thought we weren't supposed to put anything inside the cable."

"You have my blessing to ignore the rules. Go on, hold it out there so they can see what they're aiming at." Nori leans in close and whispers, "If Fili comes up first, you also have my blessing to make things difficult for him, give him a moving target."

It's Kili though who's riding his bike in slow loops around the floor, one leg out for balance and neck craned to keep his eye on his goal. If he only has one pass, he's going to have to climb sharply to reach the top of the wall. Tauriel realizes they have cheated a little, with Nori placing her where he did on the motordrome's perimeter. Kili probably knows just where he needs to hit the ramp in order match his climb to her position.

A good deal of the necessary speed needs to be gained on the ground, and she wonders how he isn't dizzy as hell by the time he angles onto the ramp. He keeps on the throttle, pushing into such a steep climb that his front tire strays outside the red warning line at the top of the wall -- so close that Tauriel could have reached and touched his knee. She holds steady though, and he barely has to lean at all to pluck the prize from her hand.

His descent from the wall is much more sedate, until he's safely on the ground again, waving and bowing and soaking up applause with Fili and Dis. If Tauriel doesn't clap loudest, she certainly does longest, stopping only after the side of the wall is opened again and the three riders filter out to allow two more in.

Bofur begins introducing the newcomers, but Tauriel isn't paying attention. Kili must have abandoned his bike right outside the door and raced around and up the stairs, because he's suddenly he's right beside her, reclaiming his place from Nori, who's vanished. The kid on Tauriel's right looks torn between awe and jealousy.

"What did you think?" Kili is beaming, flushed with exhilaration and still breathing hard.

"I think..." She finds his hand, tracing the edge of the bandage with her fingertip. "I should check to make sure you haven't pulled any of the stitches I worked so hard to put in."

"And?"

"I think you're exhibiting the classic signs of an adrenaline rush."

"And?" he repeats impatiently.

She thinks he's reckless, possibly insane.

She thinks that shirt would look fantastic discarded on her bedroom floor.

"Your mom's hot."

Kili just laughs. "My brother claims it's the family curse, why we're all so short. If we were taller we'd be unstoppable."

The press of the audience already has them standing close, and Kili is all fidgets. Tauriel switches his hand to her right behind her back and tugs his arm around her waist, leaning into him a little -- just enough to still him and make conversing easier over the roar of the two new engines below. In addition to strawberries, he now smells of sweat and gasoline, and she doesn't mind at all. Quite the opposite.

He holds rigid for a long moment before the tension finally begins to ebb out of him.

Tauriel isn't really watching the riders, even though their complicated and hair-raising routine involves running the wall in opposite directions, exchanging a fluttering blue scarf on every pass. "You surprised the hell out of me. I suspect you're a bit smug about that."

"Maybe," Kili rumbles against her ear. "And?"

The frisson it sends through her is enough to make her momentarily regret not shaving her legs -- not that she would settle for something quick and crude and furtive at this point. If she's going to make this mistake -- it remains a mistake for the myriad reasons that are still valid -- then she intends to take her time and savor it.

"I think what you do is more than a little worrisome, but fascinating."

"What about exciting?"

She can keep this up as long as he can. "I might even go so far as titillating."

 _"Nice._ So would you or would you not call yourself a fan?"

"I rather liked the guy with the microphone, the way he announced everything..."

Kili squawks and pulls his hand free, but that only allows Tauriel to turn in the loop of his arm until she can smile at him from about six inches away.

"The guy who did the ring stunt, though... he was amazing. Clearly the star of the show." She allows herself the pleasure of running her finger across his oh so firm chest. "Do you think there's a chance I could get his autograph?"

"I think that could be arranged," Kili says after he remembers to start breathing again. "That reminds me." He retrieves the ring from his pocket, tossing it in his palm a few times before handing it to her. "Here."

Oh. "Don't you need it for the next show?"

"Nah. We have a bunch, lose 'em all the time."

It's far too large to fit anywhere else so she loops it over her thumb, not wanting to drop it. "Thank you. It's a much better souvenir than one of those awful stuffed animals." She hopes he wasn't planning on winning her one, but if he was he'll know better now.

Kili hangs his head in mock shame. "If you want a prize from the midway you'll have to win it yourself. I have the worst luck with those games."

"Really? Because it seems to me that you're ridiculously coordinated."

"I'm not even good at the plastic duck pond."

"He isn't," Nori says from startlingly close proximity. When the hell did he sneak back up on them? "Never seen anything like it. It's a talent in its own right." He slings an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Dammit, Nori-"

"You two missed Thorin and Dwalin's whole act, canoodling over here."

They were not- Okay, maybe they were. But who even says that?

Nori squeezes between them to get right up against the edge of the wall. "And now for my favorite part of the evening." He pulls out a wad of small bills and begins smoothing them out, flattening them to a tidy stack.

Kili gasps. "You _cheater."_

"The rules don't say I can't slip in a little extra from my own pocket if I want."

"There are no rules, it's a friendly-"

"Ah! No rules, you said it yourself. Therefore it's not cheating." Nori urges Tauriel, "Back me up, here."

"I don't even understand what's happening."

Nori nods to the pit, where there's only one rider left. "It's Dis's turn to collect tips. She always brings in more than anyone else."

"I bet she's the only one who gets a little extra help from you," Kili grumbles.

Tips, it seems, are collected much like the brass ring trick -- with a few changes. There's no rush to the top of the wall, no limit on the number of times Dis can loop the motordrome. It's like an encore, in a way. She does a few easy laps just smiling and waving (and once blowing a kiss, to Kili or Nori or both of them, it's impossible to tell). Bofur is urging the audience to give a little something if they enjoyed the show, and Nori demonstrates how to do that by reaching out over the cable for Dis to snag his proffered bills.

Interest is moderate until Dis stuffs the cash down the front of her black leather vest for safekeeping. It's purely practical, doing fifty sideways on a wall, but there's still cleavage involved.

"Yeah, I somehow don't think your mom needs any help raking in the tips," Tauriel tells Kili, even as she's digging out a couple bills to wave with all the rest. No way she's missing this opportunity, for the inherent teasing value alone.

"Traitor."

She makes a mental note to slip him something later, when there are no kids present. Not cash, but whatever she decides on is definitely going down his pants. If she's going to torment him it's only fair that she do it to herself at the same time.

The crowd disperses, some lingering for the informal meet and greet shaping up in front of the motordrome. Tauriel spots Fili's blond head as she and Kili descend the stairs; and one of the last performers has wheeled out his bike to give folks a closer look, but no more. The way he's hovering protectively suggests that touching is not only prohibited, it could result in bitten fingers.

"Come on," Kili says. "I want to introduce you to everyone."

 _Everyone._ Oh hell, they are doing the meet the family thing. She told Kili his mom was hot and how she's going to have to talk to the woman with a straight face. (If Kili repeats what she said she'll make sure to kill him before she dies of embarrassment.)

Tauriel was only half joking about the autograph, but when they catch up to Fili he's signing glossy magazines and one girl's shirt. His admirers aren't inclined to give him up, but Kili barges right in and steals him anyway.

"Tauriel, this is my brother, Fili."

Fili extends his hand. "We meet at last." His grip is firm and warm, personal.

"Yes," she says, because it's easier than admitting she wasn't aware of his existence an hour ago.

"So you're the one who patched up dumbass here after he attacked himself with a screwdriver."

Tauriel blinks, trying to decide just how offended she wants to be on Kili's behalf, but Kili growls and elbows Fili hard enough to make him wince and rub his side. They both appear mildly exasperated at worst. Maybe they just like to give each other shit, or maybe it's their way of letting off steam. She imagines they can't afford to have anything but trust between them when they're performing together.

Just in case his brother is being an ass, though, she tells Kili, "They're certainly the most serendipitous stitches I've ever done."

Fili gives her a neutral nod. "You're coming back to camp for supper, yeah?"

"Um..."

"I haven't asked her yet," Kili says.

"You don't want to miss Balin's ribs," Fili says, then he's excusing himself to jog over to another knot of fans.

Tauriel wonders if her presence is discouraging admirers from approaching Kili -- not that she's inclined to share. But none of the other riders are doing autographs, just Fili. Odd.

"Do you?" Kili asks. "Want to head back to camp? We don't have to," he hurries on. "The fair is open for another hour or so and there's still plenty of stuff to do. I'm going to have to insist on food either way, though."

The sun set sometime during the show, leaving a band of fading red at the horizon. She isn't nearly ready for the day to end, and she is hungry. Her hesitance is less wariness than it is uncertainty about the welcome she'll receive. She can't decide what would be worse, a lot of uncomfortable questions or being dismissed as yet another of Kili's inconsequential hookups.

The other option would be going into town, but not much stays open late besides bars; and no matter how pretty Kili is and how pleasant her little fantasies are, she still isn't quite comfortable with the idea of actually inviting him home. Not... that there would be room for him in Bilbo's car.

"Shit, I completely forgot. I drove with Bilbo -- my friend from work, you met him. Whatever we do, I'll have to wrap it up when the fair closes and they kick him out."

"I could give you a lift home home," Kili offers a little too quickly. "Or... he's welcome to come back with us. There'll be plenty of food, decent company, folks hanging out, maybe some music. Some nights I swear half the fair stops by. What do you say?"

Tempting. At the very least Bilbo is good at salvaging awkward social situations. "All right, I'll ask him."

She walks apart a bit to make the call, and isn't entirely surprised when she hears Bilbo's ringtone drift out of the remnants of the crowd. It's _Gangnam Style,_ of course it is, adopted on a bet and retained because he's since learned that it annoys the shit out of Dr Greenleaf. Bilbo says it's good for him to be annoyed sometimes, otherwise he'd lapse into complacency.

"Ah, _ma petite meringue._ I was wondering when you'd call."

If he'd let it ring a little longer Tauriel might have been able to pinpoint him. "Are you near the wall of death?"

"I am. Just finished watching the show."

"What a coincidence," she says dryly. "How did you know? I didn't know until ten minutes before it started."

"That your friend would be performing? There's this thing called the internet."

"You _googled my date?"_

"You didn't?"

"Ignorance is bliss." Perhaps she should have, but Bilbo must not have turned up anything awful. He wouldn't have waited this long to mention, say, a pile of outstanding arrest warrants. "What did you think? Of the show."

After a moment, Bilbo allows, "It was certainly a spectacle."

That doesn't bode well. "Not your thing?" She still can't spot him and considers climbing the stairs again for a better vantage.

"No, no, I enjoyed it. Some aspects more than others. You can tell Mr Durinson that I was very disappointed by the-"

Tauriel hears a voice intrude over the line, low but distinct: "You can tell him yourself."

"Is that Kili? Where are you?"

Bilbo doesn't answer at first. When he does, he's huffy and loud enough that she gets him in stereo, through her phone and somewhere close on her left. "Excuse you, this is a private conversation."

"Bilbo?"

"If you wish to express your _disappointment_ to Mr Durinson, you can do it in person. You've found him."

"Hang on a tick, I think there's been a misunderstanding," Bilbo says, though it isn't clear if he's speaking to Tauriel or the interloper.

It isn't Kili. Not his voice, and Tauriel can see him approaching from the side as she closes on Bilbo. The guy Bilbo is staring down _is_ one of the riders from the show, not the massive bald one with all the tattoos, but the shorter though still imposing one with the mane of greying hair and the beard and huge silver biker rings on several of his meaty fingers.

"Oh, you found your friend," Kili says. "And it looks like he's met Uncle Thorin."

 

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last bit is going a little longer than expected, so I split it in the interest of getting something up before I go afk for a while.
> 
> For reference, this a [Scout done up wall of death style](https://40.media.tumblr.com/11ee577686b8b437f76af12c25ca2800/tumblr_nv63hzHJx11rsrn78o1_1280.jpg).


End file.
